When You Think About It
by Shenaniganary
Summary: When he considers all of the possible scenarios, the endlessly mentally rehearsed and thus prepared for outcomes, Damian must admit that this one had not been as high on the list as it should have.


When he considers all of the possible scenarios, the endlessly mentally rehearsed and thus prepared for outcomes, Damian must admit that this one had not been as high on the list as it should have.

In retrospect, that was a novice's mistake and one he would doubtlessly seek to correct as quickly and seamlessly as possible. And though excuses are not something he indulges in or appreciates even from himself, he must admit that there had been a certain expectation to the coming events of the late afternoon and evening, the breaking of which had mildly startled him.

In his defense, no one never expects their partner to be halfway onto the monitors, his shirt tossed haphazardly across the seat, and bare chest a very blatant hint to the possibly of him being bare _elsewhere_ as well, (though not readily discernable, much to his silent gratitude ) covered by a surprisingly (only because there is a difference between know and _seeing_) tall and statuesque form of an orange-skinned woman who's hair may as well be her clothing for all that he can see a slip of purple flashing as she moves.

Well. At least Grayson continues to live up to his reputations.

He doesn't bother to quiet the scrape of his boots against the stone stairs as he makes his way down, but neither seem to hear him, too engrossed in their activities to bother to keep an eye out for possible disturbances. He feels his lips edge toward a snarl. _Honestly_. At least learn to be prepared to defend oneself against foes if you're going to engage in such disgusting activity.

He steps off the staircase and into the Cave proper, resisting the urge to slam his boots into the stone floor as he does so. Such immature actions simply for the effect of providing a distraction hardly befit the son of Batman.

He glares at the two of them for a moment, idly thinking about lasers and if installing them in one's retinas is possible yet and if it would be practical enough to warrant getting them, but discards the idea as too childish moments after he dips into the complications of controlling such a device. Surely Grayson would become singed far too often to keep him useful.

So he resorts to the next best solution: clearly his throat. Loudly.

"Grayson, I know it may be a difficult concept for you, but not every flat surface should be used to engage in intercourse on." His nose wrinkles in disgust and he lets the sneer in his voice cement onto his face, "_Especially_ this one."

He watches Grayson jerk and yelp, breaking away from the orange-skinned woman—Starfire, his memory tells him after a moment. One of Grayson's old flames that Damian had thought he'd gotten rid of months before they'd started their partnership. The file said she'd gone off-planet. He'd have to update it as soon as possible. Preferably after Pennyworth thoroughly disinfected the computer.

"Oh." He hears his partner say, faint and choked, as if horrified, _as he should be_, "Oh god. _Damian?_"

He scoffs, "Of course. Who _else?_ Pennyworth is due in the Cave until thirteen-hundred thirty." He eyes the two of them as they extricate themselves, noting with no small amount of relief that Grayson had at least kept his pants on. At least the man had some form of sense. Grayson has the grace to look positively mortified, but the woman merely adjusts the straps of her purple outfit on her shoulder and tosses her hair behind her, seemingly unaffected by the fact they've been caught.

He scowls at her, only a little unnerved by her strange, pupil-less eyes. How could she even see? Maybe she used some sort of extra-sensory perception, or there was a genetic component. He'd have to take a closer look. After he made sure Grayson never did anything like this again.

Even he could have frivolous dreams.

He watched as her lips split into a smile and wondered for one brief, muscle-clenching moment, where his sword was. Her smile looked downright predatory until it settled on soft and sweet.

"I apologize," He blinks and cocked a brow, debating whether to let his derision or disgust show as she continues, "I hadn't realized Dick was expecting company."

Grayson chokes on a snort, pulling his shirt back over his head and it seems to act as a sort of armor. The blush on his cheeks is quickly fading. Damian's not sure he likes how easily the older man is getting over the shock.

He snorts and folds his arms, "Tt. _He_ should have."

Dick rubs the back of his neck, looking sheepish, "I really am sorry, Damian. I wasn't expecting Kory to drop in."

Kory—_Starfire_, hums and brushes her fingers over his cheek, "That was the point, Dick. You are too busy once evening comes, and I do not wish to disturb your work anymore than I must."

He grins at her and leans his head against her hand, looking far too appreciative. Damian feels like he wants to vomit.

"But we probably should have gone upstairs instead," He points out, giving Kory a pointed look. Starfire shrugs, an elegant motion that has his fingers itching for a blade. She seems unconcerned with it all, as if engaging in such actions were the norm. Which they certainly were _not_ and Damian wasn't about to let anyone think otherwise. What would his father say?

Better yet, what would he father _do?_

He folded his arms over his chest and gaze both of them a disgusted look. Disgust would work nicely for this.

"Don't do it again," He informs them, his tone as commanding as he can make it, "I don't care if you _must_ engage in this sort of activity, Grayson, but the _least_ you can do is make sure it stays out of the Cave. Pennyworth shouldn't have to waste any more time disinfecting than he needs to."

Starfire throws her head back and laughs, startling him, and he snaps his gaze back to her, his jaw clenching as his anger spikes. He _hates_ being laughed at and he'll do anything to make it stop, to make them _pay_. He wonders just how long it'll take him to find a weapon that will actually hurt her.

Twenty seconds, if she keeps this up.

But she quiets soon after, and turns her gaze to him. He can't tell with the way her eyes are (and honestly, how does that sort of mutation even _maintain_ itself against pupils and retinas?) He needs to do more research, can feel the lack of _knowing_ itching at the back of his brain. It annoys him, just a little more than feeling himself assessed by the alien. He doesn't care what she thinks; only that she'll _leave_ as soon as possible.

"I must go. You have training to attend to and a city to maintain." She reaches to cup Grayson's cheek, her smile softening, "Be safe, Dick, and know that I am always here for you."

Damian twitches internally as Grayson smiles and thanks her. He knows Grayson's been stressed; frankly it's one of the reasons he's always thought him unfit for the mantle of Batman, but he's adjusted to it well enough and has become an acceptable asset until his father's eventual return. It isn't unreasonable for him to take offense at the implication he can't look after Grayson himself and he feels more than justified in sneering at her, "He's fine. Just get out of here already."

She ignores him, which sets his teeth further on edge, and squeezes Grayson's shoulder a final time. She steps past them, headed for the garage as if she knows just where to go. She might. By all accounts Grayson has known her for quite some time, most of which intimately. It is very possible she may have visited the Cave before. He could probably find footage of her if he checked the archives.

He watches her go, assessing her movements; how she takes each step as if she walks on a battlefield. He wonders, idly, how she fights, and narrows his eyes in displeasure as she turns back to them as she reaches the mouth that will lead her out to the garage.

"Damian," She calls back, her smile wide and predatory, "Do not hold yourself back next time we meet. I want to see just how far you will go to win."

He sneers automatically, bristling, "What would be the point? You're not worth my time,"

Her laughter is her only response, and it echoes through the Cave like a challenge.

"Huh." He hears Grayson pipe up after a moment, sounding oddly cheerful, "Guess we'll have to break out the fire retardant mats."

"Only if it's for _training_, Grayson."

"Of course."


End file.
